The Autumn Ball
by Nimbus 1944
Summary: It all depends on what the meaning of a clone is. (RHr; written for the BertieBotts Clone Challenge.)
1. A Clone With You At Last

****

The Autumn Ball  
It all depends on what the   
meaning of a clone is.

What a piece of work is a man!  
- _Hamlet_, Act II, Sc. II 

****

1. A Clone With You At Last.

It was a warm, hazy day in early July at the Burrow. Hermione and Ron were too bored to play Exploding Snap again, and were lounging under an apple tree, watching an expanse of grass and wildflowers waving in the occasional breeze. 

Hermione broke the silence. "Did you hear Gryffindor's holding an Autumn Ball this year?"

"Is that good?"

"Ron, come on now. It's your big chance to be gallant and invite a girl."

"Harry's the gallant one. I've haven't got anyone waiting for me to be gallant."

Hermione gave him a dirty look. "I thought we had agreed that I was a girl."

"I know where you're going with this. I'm supposed to invite you, right?"

"Yes. Based on the next-week principle."

"What's the next-week principle?"

"If you don't invite me, I'm going to hex you into next week." 

"Oh... that one. And you're merciless about dating. I learnt that much."

"I am. And you still need to be trained up on dealing with us girls. We ought to be going over a few things to make life a little more pleasant between us."

"Dad already gave me the girl lecture."

She smirked. "Not that, you git. I was referring to all our arguments. I'd wager Harry would be happier if we weren't always griping and shouting at each other. I have an idea on how to fix that before school starts."

"Okay, I'll ask -- but I'll probably regret it. What's your brilliant idea?"

"We'll duplicate ourselves."

"WHAT?"

"We'll create some temporary copies, and practise interacting with them."

"ARE YOU MAD?"

"It's not a simple charm, but it's safe. I know where to find it in the books. Did you ever wonder where all those chickens come from that you gobble down every night at Hogwarts? I think they must clone Hagrid's little flock over and over, day after day."

"We're not chicken, Hermione."

She chuckled at that. "Oh, sometimes I think we.... well, anyway. Here's my plan. The book says human clones are perfect copies at the moment of their shaping. However, they can be instructed by their originals, steering them to do things a different way. So, you want to see what it'd be like if I were less argumentative? Fine! I'll instruct my clone to be peaceful, and you try conversing with her. Meanwhile, I'll be doing the same with your clone, who will be slightly different in some way."

"And are we supposed to put up these two clowns in the Burrow all summer?"

"Clones. And no, we can vanish them after an hour or two, then bring them back the next time we want them. You'll know that you can say things to her that won't matter, because it's not really me. Then we'll swap notes on our experience, and maybe adjust our own way of doing things."

"I'd feel really strange talking to a Hermione while you're someplace else talking to a Ron."

"You talked to me when I was petrified. That wasn't exactly normal."

"That was different. Besides, what are you going to do if the clone's more fun to be with? Zot me, and let him take my place? 

She laughed. "Hmmm! Not a bad idea, actually! We could bump you off, run your sorry butt through the neighbor's wood chipper, and the clone and I could go on holiday together. That might work."

"You worry me sometimes, Hermione."

"Fear me, Ron."

* * *

Hermione began practising the charm with chickens. Her first wave of the wand produced a six-foot-tall rooster with an attitude, which scared the other chickens before she vanished it. _I must keep my mind off Ron,_ she thought.

By mid-July, she had perfected her wand action, and felt prepared to have a go at human shaping. She would apparate the two clones, then each of them would control their own copy. 

"So, Ron, have you decided what qualities you want to mould into your Ron?"

"Yeah, I think so. Do I have to tell you what they are ahead of time?"

She hesitated; that was a good point. "You're right. Let's not say. If it's a significant change, I should notice what you did."

"Okay. And how will we tell them from us?"

"Umm.. when I charm them, I'll give them blue shirts. Will that do?"

"Yeah. And... do we agree we shouldn't do any.... umm.. I mean, when you're with the other Ron, you wouldn't actually... umm..."

"Ron, I can't complain if you want to practise your snogging technique... seeing as how you can't bring yourself to try it the rest of the time! But if you even think about getting horny with my clone, just remember I know Ginny's bat-bogey hex."

"Well, I don't want to see _my_ clone get misused, either. Agreed?"

"I'd much rather you wore any silly smiles yourself, Mr. Weasley. Agreed."


	2. A Clone Again, Naturally

****

2. A clone again, naturally.

Their underage magic wouldn't be detectable at the Burrow, a household normally full of magicians. Hermione carefully went through the lengthy charming process needed to make the clones take shape. 

The copies gradually appeared, wearing clothing identical to their originals, and Hermione did another charm to tint the blouses blue. The clones were perfect, realistic, breathing copies -- one tall and very red-haired "blue-Ron" and a shorter and very bushy-haired "blue-Hermione." Ron and Hermione found them fascinating to look at.

Each of the teens practised vanishing and recalling their clone a few times, and all went well, so they separated to perform the personal instructions. It was a strange sensation to be talking to oneself, but they coped with it. Ron told blue-Ron to listen attentively, and act as though he was really interested in whatever she was talking about. Hermione told blue-Hermione to get over her fear of broom flying, and not to get upset if Ron mentioned Quidditch every two minutes. As the book had said, the clones were perfectly willing to adjust. 

The two swapped clones and went off to meet separately. Ron was pleasantly surprised when blue-Hermione suggested a broom ride, and they went off for a spin. Meanwhile, Hermione couldn't get over how blue-Ron's thoughts didn't wander, and he never once injected the Chudley Cannons into their conversation.

After two hours of this unusual togetherness, the four met up. By now, blue-Hermione was flushed with excitement over flying, and blue-Ron was proudly wearing an S.P.E.W. badge. The originals vanished their clones, and compared notes.

"How was I?" asked Ron.

"You were great. Hope I was fun, too! They are easier to deal with, aren't they?" 

"Sure they are. Pretty soon, the other Hermione'll be playing Quidditch, and the other Ron's gonna be knitting hats for house-elves. But -- that's not exactly what you set out to do, is it?"

"Hmph... y'know, you're right, Ron. This is not working right. There's a fallacy in my plan. Instead of us improving ourselves, all we're doing is compensating with the clones."

"So what do we do?"

"The truth is, our clones have to act the same way we do. For instance, my clone shan't fly unless I would. Is that okay with you?"

"Um.....oh, alright. And mine will still think elves are a bit weird. Is that okay?"

"Sure. I understand. But are you willing to learn to dance from my clone?"

"Okay... if you'll pretend having even a smidgeon of interest in professional Quidditch."

"No problem."

* * *

Through practising with the clones to see what worked, Ron and Hermione made little adjustments for each other's interests and personality quirks. Getting along, it seemed, was so much more fun than arguing.

This plan could have come to a disastrous end on one particularly beautiful day in late July, when the four came together after a clone session -- and blue-Ron had a silly smile on his blushing face. When Ron insisted on asking what had happened, blue-Ron divulged that Hermione (perhaps with owl-post hints from the more impetuous Ginny) had snogged his brains out.

Before Ron could complain about such blatant misuse, blue-Hermione staggered in with a similar silly smile. Hermione grilled her clone, and found Ron had also been practising some steamy kissing. Both clones were vanished with particularly loud and vigourous commands.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, neither one anxious to explain their behaviour, or knowing what to do next. Ron finally figured out the simplest solution.

"First off, Hermione, I'm sorry if my clone or I overdid it in any way. It was just kissing. But, I guess we're both changing, and getting to actually like each other's clones. Or each other. Or whatever. Wasn't that the reason for doing all this? What if... well, couldn't we... I mean, how about we..."

"Dump the clones?" finished Hermione.

"Yeah. About time, isn't it? I mean, they're just us anyway."

"I think you're right, Ron. Where did my clone leave off?"

And so, for the second time that day, Hermione snogged Ron's brains out. 

* * *

It could not be said that they completely changed. They still saw the same faults in each other that they had before. Worse, they still saw their own flaws. But adjustments had undoubtedly been made.

By mid-August, Ron was learning to dance, and looking forward to the Autumn Ball as much as Hermione. While she was still terrified of flying, she stood up to her fears and flew in formation through the treetops with Ron.

When Harry and other family members finally arrived from holiday activities, they noticed the two were never at odds. Molly had detected it over the Summer, and Ginny explained it all. Harry was much relieved; their bickering had always been such an annoyance to him.

At Hogwarts, the Autumn Ball was just another dance, not a major occasion to all students. Ron and Hermione, though, were fidgety in anticipation. For them, it had become their personal goal, something very special. Indeed, it turned out well; everyone said they were the happiest and most attractive couple in the hall.

* * *

They sat in the crisp air of late Autumn, enjoying a Highlands sunset.

"Ron?"

"Um?"

"Something's bothering you."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. But you're quiet lately. Did I say something?"

"No. You're fine."

"Ummm," she purred. "Glad to hear that. I was just worried that you were upset."

"Nah. I'm happy as a lark. And glad it's working between us."

"Are you sure?" 

A good question. _Was_ he sure? He wasn't, really. 

In fact, Ron couldn't stand it any longer. "Hermione, I'm sorry, but I have to confess something."

"Confess?" asked Hermione. "What now?"

"It's about our dates. You've been saying I'm less shy, less arguing, more open, more nice, all that. Do you really think so?"

"Well.... yes, I must say."

"But how much of it was the Autumn Ball? Was that it? Was I really that good that night?"

Hermione hesitated. "Ron, where are you going with all this?"

Ron steeled himself, then blurted it all before he could change his mind. "Hermione, I knew the ball was very important to you, and that made it important to me. I wanted to impress you, and I made sure I planned it all out, dressed up just right, and neatened myself up."

"Everyone said you looked fine," she pointed out.

"Yeah, looks, maybe. But I knew I just wasn't ready for it yet. I'm still me. I couldn't ruin the evening when you had looked forward to it so much! So.... at the last minute, I... I used the charm one last time. I brought up my clone -- and sent him."

"You.... sent...."

"My clone."

"You sent your CLONE to dance with me, and chat with me, and who knows what else? On this intimate occasion, the biggest event of the year, and in front of all our friends, you sent your cheap, cardboard-cutout CLONE to date me?"

By now, Ron felt about an inch tall. "Go on, have at me. I deserve it. It was incredibly stupid of me, and now that I think on it, I insulted you something awful by doing that, and I'm really sorry. I spoiled your best night, didn't I?"

Hermione had steam rising from her ears now. "You don't know the half of it, Ronald B. Weasley. It would have been a _great_ night for both of us. Being a boy, you don't know how much care I took getting ready. Ginny and I helped each other, setting our hair, picking out my bracelets and necklace. I bought new shoes, adjusted the hem on my dress, borrowed a wonderful perfume from Alicia..."

"But you know me, Hermione; I would have said something wrong and spoiled it all. I know it's not much, but just think of this: I wanted to go, too, and I gave it up, so you'd enjoy it, even if I didn't."

"And that's what makes me _really_ angry, Ron."

"Why? I did it for you!"

"So did I, you great git!"

"Well, at least you got to go the dance!"

"And now I'm really, _really_ angry, Ron!"

"Why?"

"Because I didn't want to hurt you any more than you wanted to hurt me. If you had said something out of place, I _would_ have answered it, and we _would _have gone back to our dorms in a huff."

"But that's exactly my point! We didn't do that, cos I lost my courage, and sent my clone!"

"AND SO DID I !"

Suddenly, it was very quiet.

"You... did.. what?" said Ron.

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry, Ron," she answered. "I couldn't spoil _your_ evening, either; I did the same thing. I sent _my _clone. We are such a joke! It was the biggest social occasion of our year, and we _both_ missed it! Two self-effacing idiots! We wasted it hiding somewhere, ashamed of our shortcomings. Meanwhile, our wind-up clones were dancing the night away with each other... and since they were perfect copies of us as we were that night, it only proves we would have gotten along wonderfully."

Ron slowly shook his head in disbelief. "Hermione, you and I are _both_ hopeless."

"For once, Ron, I have to agree."

The sun set in silence. 

"Hermione, would you like to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow? I'll buy." 

"Thanks, Ron. But, honestly, I'd be just as happy if you took me for a walk around the lake."

"Okay. Are you sure you wouldn't want to walk with my clone instead? He's better company."

"No, he isn't. He's a git. And a duplicate git at that. I only want to date original gits."

"Me too. So let's compromise. Both us gits will wear git blue. Agreed?" 

She chuckled. "Agreed. You're a real piece of work, Ron Weasley -- and, I'm glad to say, you're _my_ piece of work." 


End file.
